Page 14 of Sable's Santa Daddy

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Chapter Eight

“Thank you for stepping in. I can usually handle that stuff by myself, but…”

Sable shrugged and it was a gesture very unlike her. She never seemed unsure to him. But he’d also been shocked to see her here and more shocked to learn she was a bottom. Or maybe a switch.

If you’d have asked him a few hours ago, he would’ve sworn she’d be toppy. But he saw through some of her defenses now; it made her seem brittle in a way.

“You shouldn’t have to handle anything here, it’s supposed to be a safe place. And guys like that…” Jethro shook his head. “He wasn’t going to take no for an answer no matter what you said. He’s a total asshole and he was willing to get violent. That’s a problem with him, nothing to do with you. You want some company or do you want me to leave?”

He didn’t want to go—hated the idea actually. Didn’t want to leave her cuddling the stuffie she hadn’t let go of because she had nothing else to hold onto. But he wasn’t going to try to crowbar himself into someplace he wasn’t wanted.

Sable shrugged again and Jethro raked a hand through his hair.

“I’m trying to be respectful of your wishes so you gotta help me out. If you want me here, I’m more than happy to stay. But if you don’t, I’m not going to be an ass if you say you want some space. Promise.”

“It would be fine if you stayed,” she conceded and then patted the empty cushion beside her. “You can even sit if you want.”

Hell yes he’d take her up on that offer.

The couch was old and not particularly comfortable but he felt better for being near her. Sable closed her eyes and sighed, hugged the leopard closer to her, and he noticed her bare legs were covered in goosebumps. He’d ask if she wanted a blanket but he was almost certain she would tell him she was fine. That was just silly so he rose and grabbed a clean blanket from one of the shelves and tucked it around her.

“Thanks,” she mumbled as he sat back down.

Poor girl was exhausted. How had he not noticed before? But maybe everything had just hit her in the quiet. Like how sometimes after a scene people could get real emotional, or a day or two after a big party feel kind of down or restless.

Yeah, because right before his eyes, she tucked her legs up, snuggled her stuffie closer and made a plaintive little noise.

“What’s wrong, baby? Does your wrist hurt?”

“No.” She sighed a pained sigh without opening her eyes. “Tired, want a pillow.”

It took an effort to smother his laugh into a smile. She was going to be asleep any second.

“I don’t have a pillow but you can lean on me if you want.”

“’Kay.”

He scooted closer to her before she face-planted in the couch, and Sable snuck in under his arm like they did this all the time. It was adorable and made him ache.

He could do this for hours—hell, he could do this forever, but he knew when she woke up, whether it was fifteen minutes or two hours from now that she would regret it. That she’d have regrets about him—letting him see her like this, being so close to him, revealing this part of herself she very clearly kept carefully tucked away. Tucked wasn’t a strong enough word for it though, more like she put it in a treasure chest, locked the thing, and buried it at the bottom of the sea.

That’s how things went sometimes. He would just have to savor the warm, lazy weight of her, the sweet smell of the nape of her neck, even the way the pom pom at the end of her elf hat was tickling his collarbone and how the ice pack was pressed between her wrist and his chest. He’d rather endure the bone deep chill than wake her.

It was half an hour later that Hudson stuck his head in. When he saw Sable passed out on Jethro, Hudson huffed a laugh and came the rest of the way into the room.

“I should’ve warned you. She falls asleep at the drop of a hat after a scene. Should’ve known it’d be the same after dealing with that trash heap of a human being.”

“It’s okay, I don’t mind.”

The large man’s eyes narrowed and Jethro was confident he was being assessed. For what, he wasn’t exactly sure, but he hoped Hudson didn’t find him lacking.

“You like her, don’t you?”

Jethro shrugged with the shoulder Sable wasn’t curled under, and gave him a flippant answer. “What’s not to like?”

Hudson didn’t let it go that easily and honestly Jethro liked him for it.

“I mean, she’s smart as hell and gorgeous and if you can earn it she usually submits like a dream, but I wasn’t kidding—this girl can be a hellcat. If she gets wound too tight she can throw an epic tantrum.”


Tags: Honey Meyer Erotic